How To Get Rich With Minimal Embezzlement
by Red Witch
Summary: The gang tries to learn some money management skills.


**The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters is off reading a magazine somewhere. Not even this idea is mine. I was looking at online articles again and I thought how the gang would react to these types of stories. Basically, they are about…**

**How To Get Rich With Minimal Embezzlement **

"What?" Cyril sighed, not even bothering to look up from his computer as Ray, Pam and Krieger walked in.

"We're bored and we want work to do," Pam said.

"I'm horny and I want to do a supermodel," Cyril remarked. "Not much can be done about either situation."

"Where's Lana?" Ray asked. "I haven't seen her all day."

"Some kind of school function with AJ," Cyril explained.

"There's **always** some kind of school function going on at County Day!" Pam exclaimed.

"Apparently County Day has this radical policy that parents should be involved as much as possible," Cyril remarked sarcastically. "That it's not just a day care to simply leave your child all day."

"Well that's just weird," Krieger remarked. "Speaking of which where's Cheryl? I haven't seen her either."

"Cheryl said she had to go to a meeting where she'd be bored," Pam told him.

"You mean a board meeting?" Cyril asked.

"With her it's pretty much the same thing," Pam admitted.

Meanwhile across town at the huge office building of the West Coast Tunt Corporation division…

Cheryl was wearing a smart business suit. Unfortunately, she was also passed out cold at the head of the board table, snoring loudly.

Several men including her General Manager Mr. Lee were at the table. "Ms. Tunt…?" One man coughed. "Ms. Tunt if you please…"

"Don't wake her up," Mr. Lee sighed. "Trust me. The meeting will go much more smoothly this way."

Let's go back to the Figgis Agency, shall we?

"So, what are we supposed to do?" Pam asked. "And don't say our jobs…"

"Because we don't have any," Ray added. "Our caseloads are emptier than a make out closet at a virgin's birthday party."

"Look things are a little slow this week," Cyril said. "Until we get some cases or Cheryl sets another fire, we have to do what we can."

"We already did a lot today!" Ray said. "I restocked the bar, vacuumed the bullpen, refilled the copy machine and hid the glue in the secret hiding spot so Cheryl can't find it."

"Not that it matters," Pam sighed. "Every time one of us uses it, Cheryl sniffs it out. Like a freaking bloodhound."

"I dusted my lab," Krieger added. "Threw out the expired chemicals and emptied out all the rat traps. Okay now I have plenty of rats to experiment on. But other than that…"

"And I cleaned the bathrooms," Pam said. "They are lemony fresh. With some actual lemon juice in the toilet water. What? It's a home remedy for keeping rings from forming around the toilet."

Cyril was stunned. "You people actually **cleaned** today? You must be bored! What? You ran out of movies to download?"

"You would think that would not be possible," Krieger shrugged. "But there was only seven we wanted to see out of this latest batch."

"We're sick of doing puzzles, watching Me Tube videos…" Ray added.

"I've pretty much hit a wall with my scrapbooking," Pam admitted.

"Why don't you try improving yourselves?" Cyril asked. "That should be a large project for you all to tackle."

"You know…?" Ray looked at him.

"Or try to educate yourself," Cyril went on. "I'm doing that by reading some financial articles."

"Not that online crap again," Pam groaned.

"These articles have a lot of interesting tips," Cyril said. "It wouldn't hurt you guys to start thinking about your financial future."

"It hurts me to think about our financial present," Ray remarked.

"Here's a good one. Reasons Why You're Not Rich," Cyril read. "This should be interesting."

"I **know** the reasons why we're not rich," Ray said. "One: We don't work. Two: Most of us don't have a trust fund."

"With the exception of Ms. Moneybags," Pam added.

"Number One," Cyril read. "You think being rich is a privilege for others and not you."

"That is the **stupidest reason** I have ever heard!" Ray snapped. "Why the hell don't we deserve to be rich?"

"I have no problem with that," Pam said.

"Me too," Krieger nodded.

"Number Two," Cyril said. "Failure to plan ahead for retirement."

Pam admitted. "I have a problem with that."

"Me too," Krieger said.

"Planning ahead isn't exactly this group's forte," Ray admitted.

"And the only things this group saves are IOU's and grudges," Pam added.

"That is something we need to work on," Krieger nodded.

"Number Three," Cyril went on. "You are afraid of success."

"I am **not **afraid of success," Pam said. "In fact, I would like to **know** success for a change."

"We have more than an acquaintance with failure," Ray said. "Success would be nice."

_"Acquaintance?"_ Cyril groaned. "We're practically related!"

Ray added. "We could put Failure in the family photo album and write a Christmas card to it every year."

"Forget Christmas cards," Krieger said. "We could invite it to Thanksgiving and bring dessert."

"Usually it's crow and whup ass pie," Pam groaned.

"Fear of success is **not **a problem for us Cyril," Ray told him. "Or for most people for that matter."

"Number Four," Cyril said. "You don't think you're smart enough."

"Are you **kidding me?"** Pam shouted. "Have you seen some of the **brain surgeons** who **have** money?"

"If you have to be as smart as Cheryl Tunt to be rich," Krieger added. "The bar is extremely low."

"When Archer was rich he wasn't exactly a rocket scientist either," Ray pointed out.

"It says something about the educational system in this country when teachers and professors barely make anything," Cyril admitted. "But a Me Tube star who can barely spell makes millions."

"To be fair half of them aren't out of high school yet," Pam pointed out.

"Number Five," Cyril went on. "You focus on saving money rather than earning it."

"I haven't saved or earned any money," Krieger admitted.

"Okay other than the saving and earning parts," Ray spoke up. "This list is really dumb! Even by our standards!"

"Number Six," Cyril remarked. "You don't hang around with the right people." He looked at the others. "The list is pretty spot on about **that one!"**

"You know…?" Ray began.

"Number Seven," Cyril went on. "You buy things you can't afford."

"That's pretty much e_verything_ around here," Krieger admitted.

"Number Eight," Cyril read. "You think being rich is a sin."

"Who is this list **for?**" Pam snapped. "Crazy stupid people?"

"Even when I was a minister, I never preached that wealth was a sin," Ray admitted. "In fact, I encouraged people to get wealthy and share it with the church. Which in hindsight probably caught the attention of the IRS and…Never mind. Boring story."

Pam looked at Ray. "This time when you were a minister…We're talking something similar to Jim and Tammy aren't we?"

"Well I didn't wear **that much** makeup," Ray admitted. "And there was no air-conditioned doghouse. But…Yeah. There are some similarities. Except I was smart enough to keep my ass out of jail. And my wife at the time had an affair with that female IRS agent."

"The lesbian you were married to?" Krieger asked. "For two years?"

"Yes," Ray coughed. "Technically there was a sex scandal too. Well four of them. Maybe five? If you count that incident in the back room of the church as two separate incidents."

Pam looked at Ray. "Dude. You have **got **to tell us this story one day."

"It's not **that** interesting," Ray waved.

"Sounds pretty interesting to me," Cyril said.

"Just read the list Cyril," Ray ordered.

"Number Nine," Cyril added. "You don't have goals for your money."

Pam was confused. "Just sitting around not working and living it up isn't **enough?"**

"Apparently," Ray shrugged.

Cyril looked at the group. "All you people do is sit around and **not work!** And you live it up every chance you get!"

"Yeah but we don't use our own money to do it!" Pam pointed out.

"Exactly," Cyril said. "You mooch money off of either Mallory or Cheryl."

Pam gave him a look. "And **who** used Cheryl's credit card to buy himself some new sweater vests?"

Cyril shrugged. "I didn't say it was a bad thing."

"Is there anything **practical **in this article?" Ray asked. "Like what the next Amazon stock is going to be or something?"

"Having a savings account and a retirement plan are all well and good," Pam said. "But we want ways to get a ton of money _now_. So far our best bet is using Cheryl's credit card and hoping her accountants never notice."

"They never do," Krieger said.

"I think that's because either we spend less than she does," Pam remarked. "Or her accountants are crooked."

"Most likely the latter," Cyril shrugged.

"Basically, we want to get rich with minimal embezzlement," Ray explained. "Is there anything in that article about that?"

"Not in this one, no," Cyril admitted. "But there might be another one…"

"Oh good," Pam said sarcastically. "Another article."

"Here we go," Cyril read. "Number one, is to save a percentage of your salary for retirement."

"Most of my salary goes to these things called eating, clothes, and health insurance," Ray remarked. "I just barely paid off my debt from when I was crippled for the first time, let alone my third!"

"Or saving for rent money," Pam nodded.

"We live in Cheryl's mansion for free," Cyril pointed out.

"And how long do you think **that's** going to last?" Pam challenged. "Until she burns the place down."

"Good point," Cyril said. "The second thing is cutting expenses."

"Let's just say we use the five fingered discount when we can," Krieger admitted.

"Or in my case," Ray added. "The super speed discount."

"It's not talking about theft!" Cyril snapped. "It's about cutting out things you don't need. Like buying a cup of coffee every day. Or bearclaws!"

"That's just blasphemy!" Pam sniffed.

"Don't buy new clothes every season…" Cyril went on.

"This is where the super speed discount comes in for me," Ray pointed out.

"I can't just wear the same lab coats all the time!" Krieger snapped. "Mostly because half of them get destroyed in the explosions."

"Stay away as much debt as possible…" Cyril read.

"Good luck on **that** in today's economy!" Pam snorted.

"Especially if you're going to college," Ray added.

"Thank God I went to school when I did," Pam agreed. "College was expensive but compared to today's prices it's peanuts! Today all that money I made drag racing and in illegal fights would barely pay for a bunch of books!"

"And who reads books nowadays?" Krieger asked.

"Exactly," Pam nodded. "I barely read half of my textbooks. Even some of my professors barely used them. What? I went to college during the 'Experience is the Best Teacher' phase of higher education. You know? When Dead Poets Society came out?"

"Oh yeah," Ray nodded. "I remember that movie. Saw that in my college World Literature class. The day after that the entire Humanities department was competing to be the next Robin Williams."

"One class we actually had to stand on our desks and recite poems," Pam nodded. "Which was weird because it was an accounting class."

"Your desk broke didn't it?" Ray teased.

"Like I was the **only one!"** Pam snapped. "Hell, my accounting professor cut his in half and ended up stuck between the second and first floor! Scared the hell out of Architecture 101 below us."

"My college was a lot like that," Krieger said. "More of an experimental learn as you go. We really didn't have textbooks."

"You went to college?" Cyril asked. "I thought you didn't get into Grenada?"

"No, but eventually Ms. Archer found this place in Mexico I went to," Krieger admitted. "Until it got shut down by the DEA and the Mexican Army. Long story. Not that interesting."

"You people have a **lot **of stories that sound more interesting than you think," Cyril blinked.

"I think I just came up with an idea to make some easy cash," Pam said.

"This I have to hear," Cyril groaned. "Lay it on us JG Pooveyworth."

"Next time there's a store closing," Pam explained. "Or a riot…"

"Sometimes that's one and the same," Ray pointed out.

"We sneak in and grab as much loot as we can get," Pam said. "Sell it online or in a pawn shop. Put half of it in a savings account. Invest in the other half."

"Invest in what?" Ray asked.

"I hear Tokidokis are good," Krieger remarked.

"Eh that's dodgy at best," Pam waved. "The real money will be when they get those Baby Yolo toys."

"Buy all we can and then mark up the price by two hundred percent?" Krieger asked.

"At least," Pam nodded. "Sell 'em online. Boom! Goodbye Rat Race! Hello beach house!"

"I'm in," Ray said.

"Me too," Krieger agreed. "Cyril? You in?"

Cyril sighed. "Like I have a **choice**? Although I have to admit Pam, that is one of your better thought out plans. It's immoral and illegal. Then again so is **everything else** we do around here."

"That's the spirit!" Pam nodded. "Now we have a plan!"

"And I should make a plan," Cyril sighed. "For our legal defense if we get caught."

Krieger looked at him. "You haven't **already **made one for all the other illegal shit we've done over the years?"

"Good point," Cyril blinked. "I could just change a few words around. That's a time saver."

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

"Is that **another **earthquake?" Ray gasped as the street shook for a second.

"I don't think so…" Krieger said. "Earthquakes don't explode! Usually."

Ray looked out the window. "One of the buildings down the street is completely wrecked! I can see smoke! It looks like a bomb hit it!"

"Which one?" Pam asked.

"That new hedge fund investment place that just opened up last week," Ray realized.

"Oops," Krieger blinked.

**"Oops?**" Cyril stood up and glared at Krieger. "Why did **you **just say _oops?"_

"Did I?" Krieger coughed.

"YES!" Cyril shouted.

"Oh my God…" Ray realized something. "Krieger when you said you threw out those expired chemicals from your lab, where exactly did you **put them?"**

"You **didn't**…" Cyril gasped. "Tell me you **didn't." **

"I could," Krieger whistled. "But that would be a lie."

"KRIEGER!" Cyril shouted.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Pam shouted.

"Because I didn't want us to get fined by the EPA and the city for improper disposal of chemicals," Krieger explained. "Again."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY **AGAIN**?" Cyril shouted.

"Don't worry," Krieger told him. "I threw out those citations. And with the backlog at City Hall it will be months before they send out some more."

"So, you just decided to randomly select someone else's dumpster down the street to dump out all your chemical shit?" Pam shouted.

"Yeah I guess some of those containers were leaking," Krieger remarked.

"And I guess now we're going to be charged with terrorism!" Cyril shouted. "For blowing up a building!"

"Relax," Krieger waved. "That dumpster was in the blind spot of their security cameras. Why do you think I chose it? Besides I wore gloves! What? I didn't want to wash my hands later."

"The fire seems to be burning up most of the evidence," Ray looked out the window. "As well as the south wall."

"Oh, dear God…" Cyril groaned. "Do you realize what this means?"

"Yeah it's time to start looting!" Pam said. "Ray…"

"I know the drill," Ray said. "Use my superspeed. Disable the security system and grab whatever I can carry. Then again with the fire…"

"You might need a gas mask," Krieger suggested. "Safety first."

"NO!" Cyril shouted. "NO! **NO LOOTING**! ARE YOU PEOPLE **INSANE**? Stupid question…But what if someone sees you people and somehow connects the dots?"

"What are the odds of that happening?" Pam asked.

Ray looked out the window. "There are some cops coming up to our agency."

"One to one," Cyril groaned. "Okay nobody say **anything!** Krieger go hide in the lab!"

"But…" Krieger began.

"No buts! NOW!" Cyril hissed. Krieger ran off. "Okay you two…Act innocent and shocked. Let me do the talking."

"It's a hedge fund building," Pam said. "Just put the blame on terrorists who hate capitalism."

"Just **shut up!"** Cyril hissed. "I'll handle this!"

Ten minutes later…

"Officers we are just as horrified and shocked as you are," Cyril said in a serious tone as he spoke to two plainclothes police detectives. "Such blatant violence and obvious terrorism on our street."

"Shocked," Pam said in a sad tone. "We're shocked."

"Very shocked," Ray nodded.

"Extremely shocked," Pam nodded.

"What makes you think it was terrorism Mr. Figgis?" The female detective with dark hair spoke up.

"Well Detective Henson," Cyril coughed. "The building destroyed was a hedge fund office. I mean…**Who else** would blow up a hedge fund office but capitalist hating terrorists? Kind of obvious if you think about it."

"Yeah," Pam gave Cyril a look. "Obvious."

"Shocking," Ray shook his head.

Cyril ignored the secret jibes. "Who else could possibly have a motive to blow up a hedge fund building?"

"Besides anyone who lost money to those guys," Pam added.

"That's what we're trying to figure out," The male detective told them. "You guys are a private detective agency. Have you any idea which group may have done this?"

"Well…" Cyril fidgeted. "We do hear a lot of rumors."

"Here a rumor," Pam added. "There a rumor…"

"Everywhere a rumor," Ray said.

"But nothing concrete," Cyril said. "Or we would have called you. The police that is. I mean we hear a lot of crazy rumors every day."

"Like the exploding mice rumor," Pam added.

"Pam!" Cyril snapped.

"Exploding **mice?**" The male detective asked.

"Yes, Detective Hunch," Cyril coughed. "There's this silly little urban legend. Well more like a rumor…About some mice that explode and destroy buildings."

"Like the bank across the street from us," Ray added.

"That was a _gas leak_," Cyril glared at Ray. **"Remember?"**

"Oh right," Ray nodded. "Gas leak. Not exploding mice."

"Exploding mice? **Seriously**?" Detective Henson was shocked.

"That's just as nuts as the sewer clone reports," Detective Hunch added.

"Sewer clones?" Ray raised an eyebrow.

"Every now and then we get some drunk or lunatic raving about how he's seen these green men in the sewers that all look alike," Detective Hunch explained.

"Oh, **those** sewer clones," Cyril coughed. "Yeah we've heard that too. All ridiculous of course. You can see why we take these rumors with a grain of salt."

"I prefer to take mine with beer," Pam quipped.

"Maybe ISIS is responsible for the bombing?" Ray suggested.

"WHAT?" Cyril barked.

"ISIS…" Ray looked at Cyril. "The **terrorist group**."

"Oh, **that **ISIS…" Cyril covered. "Yeah that sounds like something they'd do. ISIS. The terrorists. No other group is called ISIS."

"Not anymore," Pam remarked.

"Well they are one of three groups that have already claimed responsibility for this crime," Detective Henson admitted.

"Seriously? **Three?**" Cyril did a double take. _"Already?" _

"That was fast," Pam was stunned. "Who are the other two?"

"A group calling themselves the New Neo Nazi Party," Detective Henson looked at her phone. "And some weird woman who calls herself the Shiny Happy Liberator. According to this she sounds like some whacked out anime character."

"Is that so?" Cyril pretended he had no clue.

"According to our intel," Detective Hunch looked at his phone. "The calls came in one after the other not even a few minutes ago. Apparently, they can't be traced for some reason. At least that's the report the station is sending us."

"The Shiny Happy Liberator sounds like a nut job," Pam said honestly. "I'd focus on those other two groups if I were you."

"We have to check all leads," Detective Henson said. "But off the record I tend to agree with you. If you hear anything please call us."

"We will," Cyril said eagerly. "We will let you know if we know anything. You know?"

"Yeah…" Detective Hunch said. "You call us. Come on Henson…"

No one said anything until the two detectives left. "Do you think they bought it?" Pam asked.

"Sshhh!" Cyril hissed.

"Relax, they're outside," Ray said as he looked out the window quickly. "Looks like they couldn't get out fast enough."

"Speaking of which…" Cyril realized. "You don't think those calls were made by…?"

Meanwhile in the lab…

"This is Kaida! Al Kaida!" Krieger spoke into a phone using a voice modulator sounding completely different. "I am the one who bombed the capitalist pigs! That's right **me**! Al Kaida!"

"Hai ya…" Mitsuko rolled her eyes as she read her G-Man magazine.

Krieger heard the door open and saw the others. "Oh Got to go! My camel is double parked! Death to Capitalist Pigs! Bye!" He shut off the phone.

"What the hell are you doing Ach-Moron?" Pam asked.

"My latest gadgets! A voice modulator!" Krieger demonstrated. "I can sound like anyone!"

He changed the machine. "I'll have your guts for garters!" He sounded just like Mallory.

Then he changed it again. "This is not Barry. Or other Barry."

"Holy mimic snacks!" Pam whistled.

"So your plan is to have a bunch of fake confessions putting the blame on other people?" Cyril was stunned.

"Yup, yup, yup," Krieger grinned. "Clever eh?"

"Brilliant…" Cyril's eye twitched. "UNTIL THEY TRACE THE CALLS AND FIND OUT THEY ARE COMING FROM THE SAME PLACE!"

"Ah but they **won't**!" Krieger held up a finger and pointed to another gadget. "Thanks to this baby! The Krieger Caller Re-Router-Router. They'll think the signal was halfway around the world. It's foolproof."

"Normally I would make a joke about that…" Mitsuko remarked. "But it really works. Mitsuko tested it herself."

"So, you're framing a bunch of different terrorists for a crime **you** committed?" Ray was stunned.

"Oh please," Krieger waved. "I didn't send the cops after anyone who didn't deserve it!"

"He has a point," Ray said. "Well at least our asses are covered."

"For now!" Cyril snapped. "Krieger from now on, no more unauthorized dumping!"

"Okay from **now on**," Krieger nodded. "Gotcha."

"And nobody tells Lana or Mallory about this," Cyril moaned.

"Obviously," Ray said.

"Duh!" Pam said at the same time.

"Nope, nope, nope…" Krieger nodded. "Hey! I just came up with a great idea for future money-making operations!"

"Let me take a wild guess," Cyril groaned. "You commit some crimes. We get paid to investigate those crimes and blame them on other people."

"Exactly," Krieger grinned.

"NO!" Cyril, Ray and Pam shouted at the same time.

"Although…" Pam paused.

"NO!" Cyril and Ray said at the same time.

"Okay! Jesus!" Pam said. "How about we go on a shopping spree? Who has Cheryl's credit card?"

"I have a copy," Krieger took it out of his pocket. "I could use some new lab coats."

"I could use some new coats period," Ray said. "And some other nice things."

"I'm going to buy some nice gold jewelry," Pam said. "If things get really bad, I can always sell it. And wear it too."

"Gold is an investment," Ray nodded. "I'm in."

"Me too!" Krieger said. "You coming Cyril?"

"I think I'll pass this time," Cyril groaned. "But if you can get me a new sweater vest…"

"I know your size," Pam nodded. "Come on guys! Let's charge it!"

They all left the room leaving Cyril alone with Mitsuko. "Why is Mitsuko here?" She mused. "When I can be at a party on the other side of the world?" She downloaded herself into a nearby computer and took off.

"I just came up with a goal for my money," Cyril said to himself. "To make enough of it so that I will never have to see these people again!"


End file.
